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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24153433">Mindless Dreaming</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsrainingcats/pseuds/itsrainingcats'>itsrainingcats</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Honeybees and Willow Trees [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Nymphs &amp; Dryads, Plant Magic, Plants, beekeeper Merlin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:46:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24153433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsrainingcats/pseuds/itsrainingcats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Wishful Thinking -- expect bees, honey, cats, and an abundance of random plants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Honeybees and Willow Trees [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi there! Thanks for clicking onto my fic:) my coursework is now all in so I'm back to living vicariously through Merlin.</p><p>If you haven't read Wishful Thinking then I have a quick summary here:<br/>Merlin is a beekeeper who lives in a cottage outside of Camelot with his cat, Dragoon, and sells honey for a living. Hunith (who has transformed herself into a willow tree) is a tree nymph and Balinor (mysteriously absent) is a flower nymph, making Merlin plant nymph. He can grow plants at will BUT plants also spring up according to how he's doing emotionally - i.e. daffodil = dread, marigold = pain/grief. Arthur is pretty much still Arthur. Morgana is cursed so if she touches anyone they die. Fun times. In WT, Merlin and Arthur travelled to fairyland to find a sundrop flower as Uther had come in contact with Morgana and would otherwise have died. On the way, they meet some interesting woodland folk and have a jolly old time. Arthur nearly got married a fairy named Vivian down there. Said fairies enjoy collecting souls in their spare time and are generally a little bit morbid. BUT Merlin and Morgana helped break him out and even smashed the soul tube while they did so. Merlin also realised along the way that he's soulmates with Arthur (as proven by dandelion seeds, embedded in his hands - don't worry, they're gone now). I think those are all the important details. Hopefully. </p><p>Massive massive thanks to my beautiful, lovely beta reader and best friend, @helgaahufflepuff. I've dragged her into our fandom and am delighted to say that she may be writing some Merthur content soon - and is a veeery talented writer. Keep an eye out.</p><p>Also a quick TW for blood/injury description this chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>August that year was kind and warm, gracing the realm with pleasant evening showers that left the ground healthy and strong. In the mornings, sunshine dripped like paint, colouring the fields in olive and amber. Dragoon was particularly fond of this sort of weather and lay, redundant as a discarded flipflop, in the flowerbeds, greedily absorbing the light. The humming of bees was, for once, quietened in comparison to his purring, which came easily when he was undisturbed in the sun. Merlin’s garden had thrived over the last few weeks, flowers creeping underneath the gates and daring to spread through the fields, dotting it with unusual colourings. Fortunately, there was copious catnip, which was all Dragoon much cared about – the other flowers had made catching mice even more of a challenge than usual. He stretched his legs and moved around a bit, allowing the cool earth to crumble into his fur delectably.</p><p>Taking advantage of Dragoon’s immobility, Merlin, foolishly, scooped him up, eliciting a loud ‘yeooowl’ and effectively silencing the purring.</p><p>Dragoon did <em>not</em> appreciate being picked up when he was resting. His protests were muffled against Merlin’s shirt, however, which stunk of sweat. His Merlin had spent the morning frolicking about with a basket, gathering apples. Dragoon, personally, could not understand the sense in apples. They were tough and obnoxiously round brutes, making them hard to sink one’s teeth into. Indeed, they presented quite the danger actually, unreasonably throwing themselves at the ground whenever his Merlin waved his hands about. Dragoon thought the apples were probably conspiring to attack his Merlin and had expressed these anxieties, though his pet insisted on dawdling around that area anyway, apparently unbothered about the apples falling.</p><p>Although, Dragoon had observed how his Merlin frequently drove knives through the fruit, exacting revenge in a callous manner. Dragoon was not so foolish as to trifle with apples. He had bitten into a piece once and found the taste and texture generally underwhelming.</p><p>A voice sounded, most probably from his Merlin’s human companion. Human, a blonde-haired specimen with a keen talent for scratching Dragoon in <em>just the right spot</em>, had been here a lot recently. Not that Dragoon was complaining. His Merlin was a social creature and would frequently bother Dragoon to rave on about this and that and the other. Dragoon appreciated socialising, of course – he was a remarkably social cat actually, though generally he preferred to socialise with himself. There was no better company than the reflected image of his beautiful face in the water bowl and no better sound than his melodic meowing. It was therefore rather nice that his Merlin was less inclined to spend all his time jabbering away at him. The blonde human seemed to be a good listener and treated his Merlin with respect, so Dragoon was glad to have him around. Dragoon particularly liked making the human sneeze by shaking himself around him, so as to shred as much fur as possible in his presence. If the human did <em>hurt</em> his Merlin, however, Dragoon decided long ago that he would start by clawing his cloak to shreds and putting live bats in his chambers.</p><p>His Merlin placed him on the ground and, feeling embarrassed and irked at the bravado at which he had just been <em>picked up</em> and then <em>put down</em>, as if he was a mouse to be toyed with, Dragoon scampered to the human for sympathy.</p><p>*</p><p>Merlin watched as Dragoon leapt into Arthur’s arms. It was a relief that Dragoon liked Arthur, even if it did result in a lot of sneezing – though Merlin was sure that Dragoon didn’t <em>mean</em> to make him sneeze, he just had a lot of fur. The thought of having to choose between one or the other would have… okay, Dragoon would have won. Hands down. Even soulmates couldn’t come between a man and his cat.</p><p>“You ready to go?” Arthur asked from over the fence, leaning down to scratch Dragoon under the chin.</p><p>As much as Merlin was delighted to see Arthur – and he really was – sweaty and stinking of apples was <em>not</em> the impression he wanted to have on Uther. They had arranged for Arthur to arrive at four, but Merlin could have sworn it was-</p><p>The church bells from Camelot dinged four times – alright, so it was four <em>now</em>. Arthur was only a minute early. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest.</p><p>“I’m an hour behind, sorry. I still need to shower and make pie,” he whined, approaching the gate to press an apology kiss to Arthur’s cheek.</p><p>Arthur caught Merlin before he withdrew and gently kissed him on the lips. Cornflowers sprouted through the ground, prodding a few sunflowers out of the way as their vibrant blue petals fanned out. It was embarrassing how they grew so easily, teeming with life.</p><p>“Pie?”</p><p>Merlin rolled his eyes. He had quickly learnt that the way to Arthur’s heart was through his stomach. It would be a miracle if the apple pie made it to Camelot untouched.</p><p>“Apple pie, for <em>your dad</em>,” Merlin explained, cheeks burning slightly.</p><p>He wasn’t entirely sure how the whole boyfriend-parent-relationship thing worked but <em>everyone</em> liked apple pie. And Merlin really, really, really wanted Uther to like him. Arthur hadn’t officially introduced Merlin as his boyfriend to anyone yet, afraid of how Uther would receive the news if it came from someone else and enjoying the peace that came with the start of a new relationship away from prying eyes. Merlin didn’t mind. He was content being in Arthur’s life and enjoyed the weekends they spent together. Unfortunately, Camelot had noticed Arthur’s sudden interest in lingering near the forest and, coupled with Uther’s insistence that he needed to marry soon, Arthur revealed to Uther last week that he was seeing someone.</p><p>“Sucking up to him already, he’ll love you,” Arthur smiled, kissing him once more.</p><p>Dragoon, peeved at being so blatantly ignored in favour of his Merlin, jumped onto the fence and shoved himself between them. Merlin reluctantly withdrew and let his cat be the centre of attention, as was the way it should be.</p><p>“He’d like me more if I didn’t arrive late.”</p><p>Arthur bent down to pick one of the cornflowers and flicked it against Dragoon’s head. Dragoon jumped up to nip at the flower, catching the blue petals between his teeth and shredding them. Merlin hoped beyond hope that they wouldn’t find their way to Dragoon’s soulmate’s paw. Then again, Merlin wondered if Dragoon’s soulmate might be himself.</p><p>“You won’t be, I figured we’d be late and told him to expect us by eight.”</p><p>“This is why we’re soulmates.”</p><p>*</p><p>Despite Arthur’s generous timekeeping, they only passed through the gates of Camelot fifteen minutes early. Merlin blamed this entirely on Dragoon, who looked forlorn at the sight of them leaving and therefore required a scratch behind the ear. And more catnip. And a few extra prawns. And Merlin’s extra cosy jumper (“shouldn’t I get that, you know, as your <em>boyfriend</em>?” “no, don’t be so ridiculous”). And, okay, maybe Merlin was reluctant to go to Camelot. It wasn’t anything against Uther but, well, he was slightly terrifying.</p><p>“You’re anxious,” Arthur observed. “You always sprout nettles when you’re anxious.”</p><p>Merlin cursed at the nettles that had burst through the paving stones. Arthur had grown interested in reading Merlin’s flowers recently. In some regards, Merlin felt humbled that Arthur wanted to know him that well, even if it was a bit revealing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite at the stage where he could correctly identify the symbolism of every flower. To be fair, Merlin wasn’t sure <em>he</em> was even at that stage yet, his head remained a complicated and trying place. A few weekends back, Arthur had assumed that a beautiful, dainty purple flower symbolised fondness. Merlin didn’t have the heart to tell him that lobelia, although lovely to look at, were actually highly poisonous and had sprouted when he stubbed his toe earlier that day. A part of Merlin dreaded the day Arthur truly would be able to decipher the flowers as naturally as he did. Then again, didn’t Gwen say that honesty was the key to all successful relationships? Merlin’s feelings were sprawled out, there for Arthur to see.</p><p>“Sorry, bad habit,” Merlin muttered, waving one hand at them until they had withered away. He tightened his grip around the tin of apple pie, glad of the warm weight against his beating heart.</p><p>Arthur brushed his hand against Merlin’s arm, rubbing it for a moment. He leaned into the touch, knowing that it was Arthur’s way of saying that he wasn’t alone, and everything would be okay. Camelot was quiet tonight. A handful of people loitered outside the church, presumably having attended the evening service, and waved at their prince enthusiastically.</p><p>Arthur pulled away suddenly and strode towards a golden-haired woman a little way ahead of them, “Elena? What are you doing in Camelot?”</p><p>The woman spun around, tripping over her buttercup coloured skirts. Arthur reached an arm out to steady her. Not wanting to loiter about awkwardly or be a general inconvenience, Merlin pretended to examine a nearby window box.</p><p>“I came to thank you for the flowers, of course. A most extraordinary bouquet, I received several compliments.”</p><p>Merlin tried not to overthink the implications of sending someone a bouquet. People sent flowers for various reasons – she might have recently married or felt sick or won an award. A tap at the window of the house Merlin had been lingering near made him yelp and jump back. There was an angry red face at the other side of the glass, above the window box Merlin had been glaring at. Behind him, a mortified looking woman clasped a sheet in one hand and a bible in the other, apparently convinced that he’d been peeking in at… whatever they’d been up to. Merlin quickly turned to walk in Arthur’s direction.</p><p>“Oh, you’re most welcome. You’re excellent company.”</p><p>“You know how much I enjoy spending time with you. I look forward to another date soon.”</p><p>Merlin awkwardly squinted upwards. The sun hadn’t set yet and winked tiredly at him in the sky, amber edged clouds drifting lazily. He thought of lavender and Arthur’s lips, firmly pressed against his earlier. Uther had been fruitlessly attempting to set Arthur up for a while now and there were bound to be misunderstandings.</p><p>“I’ll see to it that we have another one soon.”</p><p>There- wait, no. Arthur <em>hadn’t</em> rejected her. His boyfriend, right in front of him, was arranging dates with some random woman.  </p><p>“Good, I have <em>so much</em> to tell you,” Elena exclaimed excitedly, leaning forwards to whisper something in Arthur’s ear.</p><p>Whoever it was that first claimed jealousy was green had been sourly misled. Jealousy curdled milk, jealousy oozed from infected wounds, jealousy was sharp and acidic and the wrong shade of yellow. A yellow that weaselled its way around Merlin’s ankles, barbed-wire like thorns cutting through his trousers, snagging against his skin until-</p><p>Merlin stumbled forwards, apple pie tin tumbling to the ground. A yellow rose had wound its way around him, tight and sharp and persistent.</p><p><em>Go away</em>, he ordered the rose. Arthur, surely, had his reasons for acting so fishy. Merlin trusted him. He had no reason not to trust him.</p><p>“If you’ll excuse me, my lady.”</p><p>Arthur hovered above him, obviously having noticed or heard Merlin’s little mishap with the rose. Merlin anticipated an explanation of sorts or at least mild concern for the mangled state of his leg, but Arthur’s attention seemed to be diverted. His gaze swept across the street, landing on a curly haired knight.</p><p><em>Flowers and dates and whispering her secrets. Pretty blonde hair and fluttery gowns, </em>the rose cried. The thorns dug deeper, spilling crimson over the cobblestones.</p><p>“My magic’s never done this before,” Merlin groaned. Arthur focussed on Merlin at last, hands ghosting around the rose that had entrapped his ankles. “Who were you looking for?”</p><p>The yellow petals trembled uncertainly but the plant was still raving, <em>gave her a bouquet and flirted, right there, in front of you</em>. Merlin bit his lip, trying to distract himself from the toxic thoughts that pierced his skin. His plants had never been so persistently aggressive towards himself before and it was not a welcome change. He’d have to discuss it with Gaius at some point.</p><p>“Someone to blame this on,” Arthur said. “I wasn’t aware you were friends with Sir Leon.”</p><p>Merlin frowned, perplexed at why Arthur would make that assumption, “I’m not?”</p><p>“Right, well, keep still. I can cut it loose.”</p><p>The thorns twitched for a moment, making Merlin shudder. He didn’t approve of unnecessary plant murder.</p><p><em>He’ll chop your stem if you don’t let me go</em>, Merlin tried one last time. The rose, finally understanding the situation, loosened its grip.</p><p>“You’ll do no such thing. It just needs to- there, no harm done.”</p><p><em>Sorry</em>, the rose apologised. <em>Got carried away. </em>A few of the petals shed, yellow deepening to red, looking like a gory sunset scene. Merlin stroked across the stem, careful to avoid any thorns, letting the plant know that he wasn’t angry. He felt it relax beneath his touch.</p><p>“No harm? Idiot, you’ve left half your ankle on the floor,” Arthur sighed, examining the wound carefully. “Go and see Gaius, he’ll patch it up. I’ll tell father that you fell over or something.”</p><p>Merlin didn’t respond. His throat felt thick and his chest heavy. He’d ruined their trip already. He moved to pick up the apple pie tin, wincing at the pain that came from moving. The prospect of meeting the king, late, upset and in a bloodied state, was unpleasant.</p><p>“Although I am going to have to cut this down. I can’t have my knights getting their legs torn off,” Arthur declared bravely, as if he was about to combat a dragon.</p><p>“Or any ladies, I’m sure.”</p><p>“Indeed, it would shred Morgana’s skirts to pieces,” Arthur nodded, frustratingly ignorant. “Get that leg sorted and I’ll see you soon.”</p><p>Grumbling, Merlin hobbled to Gaius’ house, apple pie tie tucked under his arm. He felt drained, foolish, irked at Arthur for being Arthur and irked at himself for letting his feelings grow into such unpleasantness. He didn’t know how he would manage an entire dinner when his magic was being this feisty. Uther was bound to make a few cutting remarks, it was to be expected. What if Merlin accidentally grew a cactus through his chair?</p><p>Gaius’ curtains were drawn, his house enshrined in darkness. Either he had gone to bed early or he was out. Merlin didn’t much feel like bothering Gaius if he had gone to bed so, with a poke to his leg, decided that a makeshift bandage would probably do. Throwing the apple pie tin to the ground, he grew a large molineria plant and tore off a few of the leaves. He perched on Gaius’ porch to examine his wound- and promptly grimaced at the rich, coppery smell of blood. Gaius had always taught him to at least rinse a cut before applying pressure but there wasn’t time to get water. The blood was sticky and hot against his fingers as he wrapped the leaves around it, the pressure both pleasant and painful.</p><p>Once the blood stopped soaking through the layers, Merlin deemed himself fit to move. Standing up was difficult and, lightheaded, he swayed for a moment before limping in the general direction of the castle. Colours whirled in front of him – grey, red, pink, orange, green, brown.</p><p>“Merlin,” the green and brown called. “You look like you’re about to faint. What did Arthur do this time?”</p><p>The smudge morphed into the shape of Lady Morgana, dressed in an emerald gown, gloved arm reaching out towards Merlin for a moment before she withdrew it, flinchingly. Merlin was tempted to tell her to go ahead – he could grow the sundrop flower quite easily and it might even get him out of dinner – but even dizzy and disoriented, he knew not to be so cruel as to take Morgana’s condition as a joke.</p><p>“Didn’t think I’d make you face dinner alone, did you? Perk up, I heard rumour that the kitchens are making chocolate pudding.  </p><p>Whilst chocolate pudding normally would have lifted Merlin’s spirits, right now the thought that he would have to endure not only a main course but also dessert made him flail slightly. Morgana eyed him with only moderate concern.</p><p>“Did you know you’re bleeding?”</p><p>Merlin cursed at the little red spots trailing after them – it was bad enough to be followed by flowers, let alone blood. Glancing around the empty road for any bystanders, Merlin conjured another molineria plant and pressed a leaf around the offending area.</p><p>“Rose thorns,” he explained breathlessly, straightening up. “How late are we for dinner?”</p><p>“Late? They won’t care about that. Merlin, dear, they’re honoured to have us in their presence and will be <em>so delighted</em> to see us that they’ll chide themselves for arriving early. Have you seen my dress? I’m practically glowing.” She twirled to prove it, green skirts spreading like the feathering crown of leaves of a palm tree. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it though? We can always reschedule this.”</p><p>“Better to get it over,” Merlin grimaced, staggering at a slightly faster pace to convince Morgana that he was okay. “I just hope Uther won’t behead me.”</p><p>Morgana smiled at him drily and assured him that the king would never behead the hero that had saved not only his life but also Morgana’s. Merlin wasn’t sure what Uther’s thoughts were on that subject – or how much he knew. Uther had made it clear over his reign that magic was not to be tolerated, after all, but it was well known that he had a soft spot for Morgana.</p><p>“Ready?” Morgana asked him, hands braced on the dining room doors.</p><p>Merlin nodded stiffly. He hadn’t actually noticed that they’d entered the palace but apparently that had happened at some point.</p><p>The dining room of the castle was obnoxiously big with mahogany floors and windowless, stone walls. A long banquet table laden with roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, fish, carrots, bread rolls and various silver dishes containing goodness only knows what sauces, stood in the middle of the room. Uther, it seemed, had come dressed for a fight in chainmail, sword situated alarmingly close to his chair at the head of the table, a scarlet cloak around his shoulders and crown on his head. There was no imagining that Merlin was having tea with the friendly neighbourhood baker. He only hoped that he wouldn’t expect Merlin to fight back if there was to be a duel. All Merlin wanted right now was his bed.</p><p>Arthur lifted his head to offer Merlin an encouraging smile. Merlin tried to reciprocate it but, honestly, he would take soul-snatching fairies over this any day.</p><p>“My word, you two are early. I convinced Merlin here to take a brief stroll with me before dinner,” Morgana chimed, taking her seat on the side closest to Uther’s blade, which she pinched away from his twitching fingers. “Weapons should never be in the same room as Yorkshire puddings.”</p><p>Uther ignored Morgana in favour of examining Merlin with an assessing eye. Arthur had stood up to pull Merlin’s chair out for him. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure why – he was fully capable of moving a chair – but took the seat regardless, trying his best to avoid eye contact with the king.</p><p>“Merlin? And you are?”</p><p>Merlin’s mind went blank. Who was he? <em>What</em> was he? Had he existed before this moment or was he born in this room?</p><p>Thankfully, Arthur answered on his behalf, “He’s my boyfriend, father. The same Merlin that supplied honey for the ball, got you the sundrop flower and saved me from what would have been an unfortunate marriage.”</p><p>Merlin gulped. Arthur’s left hand found Merlin’s under the table and squeezed it gently.</p><p>“I see. He’s rather sickly, needs fattening up. I confess, I didn’t know that you liked men, Arthur, else I would have set you up with Cenred.”</p><p>Merlin was not accustomed to being treated like a farm animal to be inspected and criticised. The funny thing was that he didn’t much care. Either he’d lost too much blood or had properly prepared himself for the wrath of an overprotective parent.</p><p>“In that case, I’m glad I didn’t tell you my preferences. Cenred is a ghastly, disgusting coward of a man,” Arthur laughed, moving his hand away from Merlin’s to tuck into his roast potatoes.</p><p>As soon as it left, Merlin’s confidence plummeted, so he grabbed the hand back and held on tight. Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, but Merlin refused to let it go. He would have to cope without his left hand.</p><p>“He will need to be your friend, don’t forget. Essetir is a powerful kingdom.”</p><p>Across the table, Morgana rolled her eyes melodramatically and thrust the Yorkshire pudding plate at Merlin. He took it with his left hand and served himself what he hoped was an appropriate portion size.</p><p>“One can never have enough friends.”</p><p>Merlin relaxed at last and let Arthur have his hand back. If Arthur and Uther spoke business all meal, maybe he wouldn’t faint?</p><p>“Quite. So, Merlin, you make honey?”</p><p>Aaand the hand was grabbed again, with more force this time because Merlin was conscious that he hadn’t spoken a word so far.</p><p>“Er, the-the bees <em>make</em> the honey but-I mean, yes, yes your majesty.”</p><p>Idiot. <em>Obviously</em>, Uther knew that bees made honey, he would hardly believe Merlin capable of reaching inside flowers and working with nectar himself. Why didn’t he just say yes?</p><p>“He also makes rather excellent lemonade,” Arthur added.</p><p>Merlin stuffed a Yorkshire pudding into his mouth. What Merlin had not counted on was the heat of the Yorkshire pudding – scorching, apparently fresh out the oven. A passionflower crept out the table, a curious plant that looked like something out of a science fiction novel with its violet ring bright against the bristling lilac filaments, erect above the white petals that modestly sat beneath. He stared at it with wide eyes, begging it to leave. The passionflower was clearly an obedient plant because it withdrew quickly.</p><p>“You have tasted the lemonade and the honey, Arthur?”</p><p>“Obvi- no, father, that’s not what happened. You know, it is possible that I might have fallen for someone without your involvement.”</p><p>Unsure of what exactly they were disagreeing about, Merlin lifted his wine goblet and focused on cooling his mouth. His plan was thwarted, however, when he realised that it was mulled wine. Hot mulled wine. Who the heck drank <em>mulled wine</em> in <em>August</em>?</p><p>“But you can’t be too safe and this-this boy thing is all very sudden, you must admit, suspiciously so.”</p><p>It was now, with his mouth thoroughly scorched, that Merlin finally understood what Uther was accusing. He thought that Merlin had put a love potion in Arthur’s lemonade or honey. Although this was rather rude, Merlin was also honoured that Uther thought him smart enough to know how to do that.</p><p>“It’s not the slightest bit sudden. Why do you think Arthur wanted to join the knights at such a young age?” Morgana smirked.</p><p>Relieved that Morgana and Arthur were fighting on his behalf, Merlin decided to try the sauce closest to him. Surely, that couldn’t be hot too?</p><p>“Following in his father’s footsteps.”</p><p>Chili sauce. Of course. Naturally. Because fish, roast potato and Yorkshire puddings pair so nicely with <em>chili</em>.</p><p>“Following Percival’s muscles more like. Don’t worry, dear, you’re a thousand times more endearing than Percival,” Morgana chuckled, lifting her wine goblet to chink with Merlin’s, mistaking his pained expression for being offended by her words.</p><p>Merlin wasn’t aware that chinking goblets was part of court etiquette and blinked at her for a moment before returning her smile and chinking. Great. Now he had to drink more of the sodding mulled wine. He took a swig but, probably because the chili had burnt away pain receptors in his mouth, he barely registered the heat anymore. Silver lining.</p><p>“Yet the boy has magic, has he not? I don’t buy what you said about his superior gardening skills.” Merlin choked on his mulled wine. “I knew there was something going on a while ago – bamboo, lemon trees, even peppers, I told Gaius that there might be a plant nymph about-”</p><p>“And I’m sure that Merlin giving us <em>fruit trees</em> is really damaging and hasn’t done you any good at all,” Morgana shot back, poking the squeezed lemon on the side of Uther’s plate.</p><p>“If he meant to do anyone harm, he could have easily withheld the sundrop flowers or murdered me in my sleep,” Arthur pointed out, and placed a fishbone on Merlin’s plate.</p><p>Merlin looked confusedly at the bone. Arthur knew that he very rarely ever ate meat. Whilst meat cost a fortune at market, Merlin could grow an array of vegetables and fruit for free, so he had grown accustomed to a largely vegetarian diet.</p><p>“You are enjoying the fish, Merlin?” Uther asked.</p><p>“The fish? Yes, it’s lovely or-” he glanced at Arthur and Morgana, checking if this was a trap. “It’s nice fish – a really, really great fish. Thank you for, er, inviting me to dinner.”</p><p>Uther seemed pleased with this response and ordered for more wine to be poured. The conversation moved onto Uther’s hierarchy of fish (cod was apparently inferior to salmon) and Merlin was able to space out for a bit. He wished Dragoon was here. Dragoon knew a lot about fish, being a carnivore. Then again, Merlin suspected that Dragoon preferred mouse to fish, which probably would not be appropriate. The absurd image of Dragoon wearing a knight’s helmet came to mind and that was when Uther asked-</p><p>“As a magical being, I suppose you must understand Morgana’s situation?”</p><p>Merlin faltered, unsure of whether this was a trap. Was he supposed to be ignorant to Morgana’s curse?</p><p>“He’s been most kind, father. In fact, Merlin mentioned that he would aid me in finding a cure,” Morgana said quickly.</p><p>Provided Uther didn’t have him executed, Merlin intended on helping Morgana as soon as possible. Nobody should go so long without a thumb war, it was damaging for the soul.</p><p>“Of course- I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you’ve all gone through,” Merlin added truthfully.</p><p>Uther raised his eyebrows, “That’s good to hear. You seem polite, even if your ears are too big. Arthur could learn from you.”</p><p>Arthur’s face reddened, “His ears are per-”</p><p>“Thank you, your majesty, you’re too kind,” Merlin interrupted. As much as he appreciated Arthur defending his ears, he would rather get Uther’s approval and not start an unnecessary row over them.</p><p>“I’m glad he’s not marrying a fairy. Arthur has always had unusual taste and I don’t <em>approve</em> of the match at all but, well since you can’t help the magic and Arthur can’t help being hopeless. That is- I know it is out of season, but I would appreciate you planting more apple trees.”</p><p><em>Oh, what a compliment, I’m preferred to soul-stealing fairies. </em>He hadn’t expected the approval of Uther Pendragon to be an easy quest and was relieved all the same that he wouldn’t be punished for having magic or dating the King’s son. Merlin didn’t much fancy having a tombstone that read: ‘Here lies Merlin, talented at ‘gardening’, beheaded for snogging the king’s son’.</p><p>“Merlin made you apple pie,” Arthur reported, seemingly unbothered at being called hopeless.</p><p>That cheered Uther up splendidly, “You did?”</p><p>Merlin looked around for the tin but- blast it, where had it gone? He had it when Arthur was being a prat with Elena and was sure he was carrying it when his blood was being poured all over Camelot.</p><p>“I did- although I may have accidentally left it outside Gaius’ house.”</p><p>“You there,” Uther motioned at a servant. “Acquire the apple pie from outside the physician’s house.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. They promised to meet when the camellia flowers bloomed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*turns on Mr. Brightside*<br/>again, if you're a little squeamish with blood then be careful reading this chapter as Merlin's injured leg does get brought up a few times</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I told you the apple pie was a good idea,” Merlin smugly said to Arthur the moment he had set foot in his chambers.</p><p>The apple pie had gone down a treat – not one crumb of it remained. Uther commanded the kitchens to acquire custard, cream and caramel sauce to dribble over it and was delighted when Merlin, who hadn’t experienced caramel sauce before, waffled on about how heavenly the stuff was for a good ten minutes. (Really though, how a sauce could be so thick, so smooth and <em>sweet</em> whilst retaining a light and moreish feeling to it was beyond Merlin. He had no idea what need the castle kitchens had for honey when they had that weapon at their disposal.) </p><p>“And <em>I</em> told you he’d like you,” Arthur beamed, bracing him against the door to kiss him heatedly. Merlin let himself enjoy that – after such an exhausting day, he thought he deserved it – before pulling apart.</p><p>Strictly speaking, Uther had not said whether or not he <em>liked</em> Merlin. He had certainly liked the apple pie, however, and also trusted that he wasn't going to poison it, so that was a plus. On the less-so-fortunate side, Uther interrogated Merlin on his income and 'plans for the future' for the majority of dessert. Truth be told, Merlin rarely knew what he was going to eat for breakfast the next day, so asking for his ten year plan was perhaps a little unwise. He had rambled on about being flexible and open to opportunities and Uther grunted in what Merlin hoped was not aggression before telling him that he'd never let <em>his son </em>wear clothing like that but he supposed a beekeeper couldn't be helped for not affording proper attire. This was a little bewildering as Arthur was wearing a shirt made of literally the same material, just in red.</p><p>Looking around, he was impressed by how tidy Arthur must be. His bedroom had to be the biggest Merlin had ever stepped in and, okay, made him realise that Arthur was right when he claimed, ‘bedroom and chambers are not the same thing’. The ready-to-retire-life-and-become-a-sunflower part of Merlin yearned for more light but there were a few moderately sized windows with stained glass designs adorning them, so he couldn’t really complain. A large, four-poster bed with red curtains and bedspread occupied one side, where an enormous fireplace that Santa Claus truly would have fit down, reindeer and all, was on the other. There was a thick, wooden table near the fireplace, atop which was a vase of the flowers Merlin had given Arthur last week were proudly on display. Merlin blushed at the sight – he hadn’t thought Arthur would have <em>kept</em> the flowers.</p><p>“Let's not forget that he disapproves of us and accused me of smuggling you love potions,” Merlin laughed, examining a bookcase adjacent to the bed.</p><p>“If father hasn’t organised something himself then he disapproves on principle. He’s a bit of a control freak.”</p><p>Thinking back to how Arthur had insisted on reorganising Merlin’s spice tray the other week and sorting out his sock drawer, Merlin concluded that maybe Uther wasn’t alone in that. Still, a control freak was better than someone that utterly loathed him and might, just might, be something he could work with.</p><p>“I’ll plant the trees then. Maybe following his orders would help?” Merlin wondered out loud, flopping down on Arthur’s bed. Ow. A fresh wave of pain ran through his ankle, making Merlin shudder. He spread his arms about, as if to make a snow-angel, not wanting to draw attention to the wound.</p><p>“Maybe. I’m just relieved I won’t have to court anyone else. It was exhausting,” Arthur sighed, sitting cross-legged next to him.</p><p>That trickle of yellow contaminated Merlin’s thoughts again, though there was less prickle to it this time, the image of a narcissus flower. Arthur had introduced him to his father and expressed crystal clear disinterest in courting anyone else. The Elena girl earlier must have been a misunderstanding and Merlin was <em>not</em> going to let that spoil this evening.</p><p>“You never courted me. I want flowers and awkward dates.”</p><p>“You’re practically made of flowers. Besides, you’re my soulmate,” Arthur said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I don’t need to court you.”</p><p>The sound of a door opening broke their peace, and Merlin sat upright. He expected it to be Morgana or Uther, come to say goodnight or bid that Merlin sleep in a dungeon filled with infected rats, but Merlin didn’t recognise this man. He looked to be about the same age as them, with a cropped fringe and unsure expression on his face. He was basically the human embodiment of stale bread.</p><p>“Your Royal Highness,” said the stranger, bowing deeply. “Do you require assistance tonight?”</p><p>Merlin could have laughed – of course, Arthur had a manservant. Castles had servants. <em>Princes</em> had servants.</p><p>“Yes, George, if you could bring up some cakes, then you may get along with your usual duties.”</p><p>It was curious to see Arthur addressing someone with such blatant disinterest. Merlin found himself subconsciously straightening his posture and folding his hands in his lap. It wasn’t as if he and George were all that different socially. George was, in some regards, his superior. Merlin certainly wouldn’t be able to afford the silken neckerchief he was wearing. Looking down at the cloth one on his neck, he wondered if maybe that was what Uther had been referring to.</p><p>“As you wish, sire.” George bowed again, then left the room.</p><p>The prospect of cake made Merlin raise his eyebrows at Arthur, “We’ve just eaten.”</p><p>Arthur shrugged, “Father wants you fattened up, remember. Might as well start now.”</p><p>Merlin wasn’t about to turn down free cake. It did make him wonder about Dragoon, however, whose birthday was coming up. He would need to purchase some fish cakes for him. Merlin did not think Dragoon would appreciate a birthday party, though it would be amused to buy him a little party hat to wear for the day.</p><p>“Any updates on Morgana’s curse?” Arthur inquired, moving to sit at the table by the window.</p><p>Merlin frowned, limping towards the table to join him. The few books he had found were vague. They noted that the dullaghan was a headless fairy that attacked by reading your name out loud, but Morgana had already told him as much. The only new discovery he’d made was that a dullaghan often rode on a wagon, using the spine of a human corpse as a whip and that they tended to dislike gold. Merlin had seen Morgana wearing gold though, so didn’t think this information would help her.</p><p>“Nothing big. I’ve read up on the dullaghan but there’s very little on the subject of their curses. I’m going to find Gaius tomorrow and talk with him about it all,” he said, trying not to sound too downhearted for Arthur’s sake.</p><p>Arthur didn’t seem as disappointed as he’d expected though, “I’m surprised you found anything on them. I was under the impression that all magical books had been burnt. Father’s too proud to admit that he regrets their destruction.”</p><p>Arthur might have been right there, had it not been for Merlin’s rebellious decision to hide magical books when he was six.</p><p>The burning of the books started from seemingly nowhere. There was no warning or commotion about it the day before, nothing to make Gaius or Merlin know to stay inside at night. He vaguely recalled rushing outside the first time it happened, anticipating fireworks and bonfires because of the stench of smoke that drifted through his open window, white bouvardia flowers trailing after him like little diamonds. What he found, however, was a group of angry and intimidating adults tearing books apart and tossing them into the flames. He’d never seen fire as destructive before, recognising it to be capable of warming soup and lighting candles. This fire was angry and cruel and selfish, puffing out thick, black smoke that made his lungs burst and his eyes water. He ran home and woke Gaius up, then begged him not to hand his picture books over to the book burners, terrified.</p><p>Gaius hadn’t been happy about Uther’s orders. He took Merlin to the library the next day and that was when Merlin first decided to defy the law. After all, who would accuse a six-year-old, at this point in life strangely fascinated with stoats, of hiding forbidden books?</p><p>“There’s not much out there. Most of what I’ve found on magic has been hiding under misleading dustjackets,” Merlin mumbled, deciding that Arthur probably wasn’t ready to find out that he was the culprit of this crime.</p><p>“Misleading?”</p><p>Merlin leaned back in his chair, a little smug that he’d been such a crafty six-year-old, “Have you ever wondered why there’s such a big stoat section in our library?”</p><p>“What? No. You mean to say that magical books have been impersonating stoat books?”</p><p>“Basically, yeah.”</p><p>The door opened and George re-entered, balancing a tray of cakes in his arms. Merlin hastened to help him with the tray, noticing how the man was struggling with the sheer weight of it. There were at least thirty cupcakes, each domed to perfection with swirls of colourful icing on the top. Some of the cakes were red velvet, others vanilla, chocolate, coffee, or caramel. If the castle kitchens were this accommodating all the time, Merlin had no doubt he’d triple in weight.</p><p>“These look incredible,” Merlin gasped, settling the tray on the table and rubbing his leg, which was burning angrily at his foolish decision to move. “You’ll have to help us out, George, we’ll never manage to eat all these.”</p><p>“That’s very thoughtful, sir, but I must get on with my duties,” George said quickly, turning to the fireplace.</p><p>Merlin admired George’s diligence. He wouldn’t have had the self-control to stock a fire if he was faced with such splendid cakes. Chuckling, he gestured towards the cupcakes at Arthur, “I don’t know why Uther fussed about my apple pie when you’ve got these on offer all the time.”</p><p>Arthur was looking a little astonished. Merlin assumed that the cakes were not normally this marvellous and reached out for a vanilla cupcake. He tore off a bit and put it in his mouth, feeling unable to bite into it and destroy the frosting. The crumbs melted onto his tongue, sweet and soft and somehow still warm despite the immaculate icing.</p><p>“I recommend the red velvet. It’s taken the kitchens a lot of trial and error to get the icing right.”</p><p>Merlin reached for one and delicately dipped his fingers into the icing, inhaling the pleasant aroma before trying it. Arthur was right, it was beautifully made. He put the rest of the cake in his mouth and sighed at the heavenly pairing of textures. Where the icing was smooth and creamy, the cake was soft and fluffy, making his taste-buds tingle happily.</p><p>“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you to court me with flowers, I want cupcakes instead.”</p><p>“Mm, Mithian was of the same opinion when I courted her.”</p><p>Merlin made the calculated decision to eat another cupcake, lest he say something rash. He’d had quite enough of Arthur’s courting fiascos today but also recognised that getting injured and feeling stressed could make his brain irrational sometimes. Arthur was not courting Mithian anymore, he'd told him about her before and mentioned how she didn't feel right for him. Moreover, Arthur introduced him as his boyfriend to his father literally <em>today</em>. He had no reason to feel insecure.</p><p>“I’ll have to introduce you at some point. She’s a kind girl, has a knack for handling clumsy people.”</p><p>Merlin’s leg throbbed under the table, physical proof of what Arthur was saying – that he was a blundering fool where Lady Elena and Mithian were graceful angels. No wonder they got flowers. He put down his cupcake, appetite expiring rapidly.</p><p>“Sounds nice,” he mumbled back.</p><p>Arthur took a large bite into his cake, icing spilling onto his upper lip to give him a moustache, “How’s your leg doing, by the way?”</p><p>“It’ll be fine by the morning,” Merlin shrugged, not wanting to discuss how clumsy and foolish he was.</p><p>Merlin watched as George straightened the bedcovers, and yawned. Today had been absolutely exhausting and he was ready for it to be over. He liked George, bringer of cupcakes, but it was weird to have someone else in the room, likely listening to them yet uninvolved with their conversation. Merlin felt it would be rude to go to sleep while he was still bustling about with his work but… how long would he be here for?</p><p>“Tired?” Arthur asked, noticing the yawn.</p><p>Merlin nodded sleepily.</p><p>“Ah, George, if you could get us ready for bed,” Arthur said, beckoning the man over.</p><p>
  <em>Get us ready for bed?</em>
</p><p>George appeared gathered some things from the wardrobe and bathroom before appearing before Arthur, night shirt in hand. Arthur, as if this was an automatic reaction, stood up and leaned forwards.</p><p>It took Merlin a little while to understand why he had done this. <em>Then</em>, Merlin understood. George was undressing Arthur, preparing him for bed as if he was a little toddler unable to do anything for himself. Merlin rose from the table, walking towards Arthur’s window to give <em>George and Arthur </em>some privacy.</p><p>Looking away didn’t last long.</p><p>And it was pathetic, really, because George was ever so careful and professional, not even touching Arthur’s skin. But wasn’t undressing someone an intimate act? Wasn’t it something that, moreover, Merlin knew very well Arthur could do himself? Or, at least, Merlin thought he could. He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, considering. Had Arthur ever undressed himself unaided? Except- yes, yes Merlin knew he could do that, had sent wistful glances at Arthur’s lovely, tanned back, speckled in freckles just for Merlin – and apparently George – to see.</p><p>He glared at the shirt and trousers that had been unceremoniously thrown into his royal stupidness’ laundry basket. Arthur was looking at the floor, evidently bored, as George rolled the sleeves of his sleeping garments. It was careless, cruel, inconsiderate, to do this in front of him. Did he expect George to strip him when they were married? Would George accompany them on their honeymoon? Would George brush Arthur’s teeth and tuck him in at night?</p><p>There was a wet noise and Merlin looked away from Arthur’s laundry basket. George was <em>wiping his face with a flannel</em>, washing away where the icing had stuck on Arthur’s face. This couldn’t be normal, surely. Did he give him baths too?</p><p>“Er-?” George turned to Merlin expectantly, arms reached out and Merlin’s eyes widened. No way was he letting a random stranger take his clothes off. Not today, Satan.</p><p>“No- thank you, George, I can <em>undress</em> myself.”</p><p>His cheeks flushed red at the implications behind the undressing but if George was bothered, he did not show it. Rather, George bowed majestically and gathered Arthur’s laundry basket in his arms, presumably to take to be washed. Or to present for all the eligible men and women in Camelot as love tokens. Merlin sighed and turned to face the window. Lancelot and Gwen were sat on a bench, knees angled to face one another, looking like an elderly couple, smitten. He bet <em>Gwen</em> never had to worry about stupid manservants undressing Lancelot. He bet <em>Gwen </em>got flowers and cupcakes from Lancelot and didn’t have to worry about Lancelot courting anyone else. Merlin shook his head emphatically, arms crossed.</p><p>“That’s a pretty flower,” Arthur said, walking towards Merlin.</p><p>Merlin looked down and glowered at the cherry red flower that had sprung up. The petunia was a round flower, almost entirely circular except for a very slight indent that separated each petal.</p><p>“No thorns or ankle-squeezing, though I don’t think George will like it,” Arthur said teasingly, and stood behind Merlin, weaving his arms around his waist.</p><p>If Merlin wasn’t so annoyed right now, it might have been a comforting touch. However, the mention of the yellow rose and George’s name in one sentence was too much and he felt hot, infuriated, pained.</p><p>“That’s because it’s not a rose. It’s a petunia,” he said, patiently unwinding Arthur’s arms so that he had the freedom to pace about.</p><p>“It's nice. That rose earlier must have been enthusiastic. Yours don’t normally have thorns on them.”</p><p>Merlin elected not to respond to this astute observation. Enthusiastic was one word, horrendously jealous was another. The pain in his leg seared up as he marched crossly. He ignored his that too.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin realised that Arthur was watching him, perhaps anxious that he might dent the precious palace floorboards with his stomping, “What do petunias mean then?” Arthur asked, persevering with their conversation unsuspectingly.</p><p>“Dependent on the colour, they’re associated with solace, resentment and anger.”</p><p>“That’s stupidly confusing. I’m glad you feel comfortable in here, though.”</p><p>Great, his magic was ‘stupidly confusing’ now. It wasn’t as if Merlin wrote the language of flowers or had any control over the ones that burst through the ground, exposing his every thought and feeling.</p><p>“Try again,” Merlin muttered, and stopped his pacing to approach Arthur’s wardrobe and pick out some clothes to sleep in. He had far too many clothes – a shirt for every day of the year. Stupid spoilt princes with their stupid courtships and manservants and cupcakes.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“Nothing important,” Merlin responded, moving behind Arthur’s changing screen to keep his modesty as he undressed. The top he’d picked out was soft and warm against his skin, but it did nothing to mollify the pain in his leg or the irritation he felt at Arthur.</p><p>Arthur didn’t reply, allowing the room to lapse into silence. Merlin took the moment of quiet and privacy to remove the leaves from his ankle and examine the wound. The movement of the leaves agitated the cut, reopening his skin and sending another agonising pang through his leg. Merlin bit his lip to withhold from crying out and quickly put the leaves back, holding them there in the hope that it might stop the bleeding. He suppressed the marigolds that were threatening to burst through the floor.</p><p>“I-you seem upset about something,” Arthur tried again.</p><p>“Mm,” Merlin replied, still biting his lip. The bleeding seemed to have stopped so he pulled down his pyjama leg to cover up the wound and hobbled towards Arthur’s bed, deciding that he should visit Gaius tomorrow and get it properly looked at. Arthur, stretched out on his side of the bed, was fiddling with the frills of the bedcover anxiously.</p><p>“I know it wasn’t a particularly fun evening, though father was on his best behaviour and didn’t mean-,” he paused, noticing Merlin’s agonised expression and pushing back his pyjamas to look at his legs. “I thought I told you to see Gaius.”</p><p>“He wasn’t in,” Merlin managed through grit teeth.</p><p>“So, rather than getting a first aid kit, you decided to bleed all over my sheets?”</p><p>And that was the last straw, because even though Merlin knew Arthur used humour to hide his concern and probably didn’t care about his sheets, he was in too much pain, felt too frustrated, to <em>not</em> explode now. Petunias, blood red, hot and silly, bubbled in him. Merlin felt his insides crumble, brittle as dry earth in a draught. Arthur, it seemed, couldn’t even stomach the sight of blood. He was up, out the room, rummaging about with goodness knows what in the bathroom. </p><p>“I’m sorry about getting blood on your precious sheets and I’m sorry that I’m clumsy and that Uther hates me and my magic is confusing and I don’t understand all this royal stuff or own any silk,” Merlin ranted nonsensically, when he returned to his room.</p><p>“What are you on about? Merlin, come here,” Arthur ordered, holding his arms out. Merlin moved towards them before realising that, no, he didn’t want to be comforted by that oaf right now. In fact, he had a good mind to hobble back to his cottage. </p><p>“No, I-I’m angry at you.”</p><p>“Yes, I can see that. And you probably have a right to, I’m a bloody big prat sometimes, but you’ll run out of blood soon and without your blood, I can't make you blush. So, you’ll have to make do with yelling at me while I bandage you up,” Arthur explained, waving the first-aid kit and wet flannel he’d apparently got from the bathroom in front of him.</p><p>Merlin considered. The thought of having his injury properly dressed definitely beat bleeding to death. Moreover, the opportunity to yell at Arthur right now surpassed ranting at Dragoon for the next six months.</p><p>“Fine,” Merlin relented, slumping against Arthur.</p><p>“Do go on,” Arthur said, delicately removing the leaves.</p><p>“That girl with the pretty blonde hair-” he broke off as Arthur fleetingly dabbed at his ankle, hissing at the sensation of the cool flannel.</p><p>“You’ll have to be more specific,” Arthur said after a moment, infuriatingly patient.</p><p>“The one in yellow who was blatantly flirting with you earlier- and you didn’t <em>even</em> object, Arthur. In fact, she said she liked the flowers and was looking forward to your <em>date</em>, then whispered something in your ear. And you blushed, you <em>definitely</em> blushed, right in front of me! I get that you’ve got to court people and being a prince sucks, but you could have at least explained that your circumstances had changed or-or-,” he broke off, breathing heavily.</p><p>Arthur threw the flannel on the floor and pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “God, I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry Merlin. I thought I’d told you about Elena before. My father has been trying to set us up for ages without understanding that <em>she</em> has feelings for someone else and I-, well, you know how I feel about courting. <em>He</em> sends her flowers every week and has been arranging picnics whenever she’s in Camelot, during which all we do is ride and eat and talk about boys. And- and the whisper was, well, that’s, er.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. I, er, have a habit of talking about you a bit, or, er, maybe a lot, I don’t know and. And she, er, said you were exactly as I had described and asked if that was why I had lip balm on.”</p><p>Relief erupted in Merlin like a camellia flower blooming, weightless and full all at once. Now that he thought about it, Arthur <em>might</em> have told him about Elena before, when he was uprooting some potatoes. But the bees were loud, and Dragoon was rolling around happily and, okay, Merlin wasn’t listening properly. Except- no, he still had good reason to be annoyed.</p><p>“Oh, well. I’m still not happy about George,” Merlin huffed.</p><p>“George? I’ll fire him,” Arthur said immediately, eyebrows furrowing in obvious confusion as he reached into the first-aid kit to get a bandage out.</p><p>“George did nothing wrong, <em>clotpoll</em>, you did. Why did you let him strip you?”</p><p>Arthur shook his head disbelievingly, “He was disrobing me, Merlin, not <em>stripping</em> me!”</p><p>Merlin scowled up at him. He might not be a genius but disrobing meant taking off one’s robes, it was <em>in the word</em>. Arthur had not been wearing a cloak or dressing gown and therefore was not disrobed.</p><p>“He took off your trousers.”</p><p>“He’s done that for years,” Arthur laughed, delicately bandaging his wound. Noting Merlin’s obvious lack of amusement, he hastened to add, “And now he’ll stop that. Obviously. If anyone other than you dares to touch my coat, gloves, armour, whatever, I’ll have them beheaded. Instantly. Whether I'm wearing them or not.”</p><p>Merlin grumbled under his breath. Now that his anger had dulled, he realised how utterly unreasonable he’d been. He really was a possessive little shit, giving Arthur such a hard time over nothing. Merlin didn’t want to be the sort of boyfriend that would overanalyse every single interaction Arthur had with another human.</p><p>White peonies broke through the headboard. Arthur eyed them warily.</p><p>“What’s wrong now?”</p><p>“I feel stupid for overreacting. I’m sorry.”</p><p>The first-aid kit clicked shut, and Arthur pulled him into his arms. And, really, was there anything nicer than being held by someone that makes you feel safe?</p><p>“No, you have a right to be angry. You didn’t know about Elena and if someone tried to take your trousers off in front of me, I’d probably punch them, even if it is their job.”</p><p>It didn't excuse the fact that Merlin could have very easily <em>asked</em> Arthur why Elena had been flirting with him. Penting up your emotions helped no-one, he knew that now.</p><p>“Yeah, but I’m meant to be the smart one,” Merlin said, as if explaining something obvious.</p><p>Arthur loosened his hold on him, “Who told you that?”</p><p>“Morgana. She told me that you asked her whether butter came from buttercups once.”</p><p>Morgana had given him a steady supply of amusing anecdotes concerning Arthur that Merlin fully intended to use to his advantage. Honestly, Merlin found most of them more endearing than embarrassing but he was hardly going to tell Arthur this.</p><p>“I was ten! I’ll have you know that I’m very smart. Although, I’ll try to be more sensitive to your feelings in the future if you agree to <em>tell me</em> next time I’m an idiot.”</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p>Arthur shook his hand and Merlin curled into his chest, glad that they wouldn’t be going to sleep on an argument. He supposed that even soulmates were bound to have a few spats, especially when they weren't used to each other yet. Two sides of the same coin had different pictures on them, after all. But it was nice that they were learning together, nice that Arthur wanted to understand him as much as Merlin did, that they could grow together, like two sunflowers, steady and strong.</p><p>“I take it that yellow roses don’t symbolise friendship then?” Arthur asked a moment later.</p><p>“Think you might be mixing them up with pink tulips or Peruvian lilies,” Merlin laughed, getting up to brush his teeth. "Yellow roses mean jealousy."</p><p>There was no point hiding it, not when Arthur was trying so hard to understand him. Besides, Arthur wasn't exactly a good actor and Merlin had no doubt he'd recognise any jealousy shown by him straight away. From now on, Merlin decided, he would be open and honest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much to everyone who left kudos and comments last week! I can't stress enough how lovely it is to know that some of you are enjoying this. Hope you're all doing well&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading the first chapter, I really appreciate it! I want to say that this will be around 8-10 chapters but I have a tendency to waffle on and on... and on... and on, so frankly who knows?!</p><p>Next chapter should be up really soon hopefully:) let me know if you liked this one.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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